


Long Shadows Falling

by Caiternate, thestonedelephants



Category: Supernatural, team free will 2.0 - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, F/F, emotionally repressed apocalypse lesbians, modified end-verse, the world is ending might as well have really angsty sex, this is not at all a happy fic, written while listening to more Spring Awakening than one would expect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2752862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caiternate/pseuds/Caiternate, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestonedelephants/pseuds/thestonedelephants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the smoke clears after the final battle in Detroit, the angels are gone, the demons are rampant, and the many human casualties include Krissy's team, as well as Ben and Jesse. Claire and Krissy begin to hunt together as the battlefield becomes a wasteland and a strange virus threatens to take what precious little is left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Epilogue: a beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cambion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/221050) by [callowyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callowyn/pseuds/callowyn), [thegeminisage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegeminisage/pseuds/thegeminisage). 



> This fic has a weird relationship with canon-- Claire, Jesse, and Ben are as they appear in the Cambionverse series, and the events leading up to the Apocalypse have been modified to fit that timeline.  
> Essentially, Sam and Dean were prevented from killing Lilith and raising Lucifer at that time, preventing that apocalypse. However, Meg of Cambionverse managed to set the plan to raise him again into motion before she died. Other than that, events unfold in a way that's pretty similar to the End!verse of season 5.
> 
> Certain elements of the show's canon (like the Mark of Cain) are still applicable, others are not, either because they're invalidated by Cambionverse canon or because I haven't watched the most recent season.

Krissy knew that the battle was over when the sky turned colorless and cold.

During the fighting, it had flashed with lightning, glowed red, erupted in blazes of angelic blue and roiled with black smoke. Now it was a flat grey, still and chilly. The air was no longer alive with battle sounds, unbearable stillness settled over the Detroit street instead.

Beside her, leaning against the side of the truck, Aiden gasped for each wet, rattling breath as Krissy tried to patch up the gash running from sternum to hipbone, smooth skin rent by a demonic claw.

“It’s okay, Aiden, I’ve got you.” She whispered, fingers slipping from fingers slick with blood, not meeting his eyes because she was terrified of the emptiness she might see there.

“Krissy...”

“Shut up. Don’t strain yourself. Stay with me.”

“Krissy” He said, with more urgency this time. “My eyes…” He laughed, a short, hacking thing. “My eyes are up here, asshole.”

She choked out a laugh, finally meeting Aidan’s eyes. He was grinning at her, and it was such an ordinary thing, such an Aidan thing, and Krissy hadn’t cried when a demon had thrown her against a brick wall, over and over before it was struck down in a blaze of white light and she hadn’t cried when she’d found Josephine’s broken body and dragged it, firefighter-style to the truck, but now it’s Aiden’s deep brown eyes, pain-filled and drifting in and out of focus, that were breaking her, and the tears left hot trails down her cheeks and splashed onto the lapels of Aiden’s brown jacket.

None of them had expected to ever have time for last words, and it almost seemed fair that neither of them had been witness to Josephine’s, and now Aiden barely had time for another cough and a quiet smile before his eyes clouded and Krissy was left alone.

Krissy would have given anything to stay where she was, to pay Aiden and Josephine the respect they deserved, but although the battle was over, she was not the only one left on the field. Through the smoke and rubble, other forms were stirring. So she slipped one arm under each of Aiden’s and laid him in the back of the car beside Josephine.

She blinked away the tears and turned the key in the ignition.

  
  


There was another girl on the battlefield. Another girl caked in the grime of battle, hunched on the ground. At her feet were two bodies, side by side like soldiers, and though there were tear tracks on her face, this girl looked more like a knight guarding a tomb than a mourner. This girl barely registered Krissy’s presence when she slowed the truck to a stop and approached her. This girl did not flinch when Krissy brushed holy water across her shell-shocked palms, but she helped Krissy lift the bodies and lay them— two boys in their early twenties, one wholly unscathed but for a burn wound like from an angel’s blade but uglier, the other covered in far too much blood for such a sweet face— in the now-crowded bed of the truck.

This girl did not speak until the ash-filled streets of Detroit were a memory in the rearview.

“Name’s Krissy.”

“I’m Claire.” The girl said, staring at her hands.

Are you okay? Krissy wanted to ask, but the answer was painfully obvious.

Neither spoke again until they were standing beside a four-man-wide fire. Krissy offered a flask from the glove compartment and Claire accepted it wordlessly.

“Their names were Aiden and Josephine.” She offers.

“Ben. Jesse.” She fell silent again. “My family.”

It took less time than it should have, Krissy thought. The lack of ceremony didn’t matter to her; she’d never expected an elaborate funeral for herself or anyone she knew. Still, it hadn’t been much more than an hour before the fire burnt itself out, embers glowing under the darkening sky.

“Do you want to keep going? We could stay here, if you like. Sleep in the truck.”

Claire glanced around the barren field with a faraway look like she was seeing something else entirely.

“No. I don’t want to stay here.”

So they drove.

  
  
  
  


Motels still existed, which struck Krissy as really fucking bizarre. Perhaps news of the end of the goddamn world hadn’t gotten everywhere, but it still seemed odd to find the Benson Motel of Benson, Michigan with a blue “vacancy” sign lit like a beacon when she and Claire were still grimy from the apocalypse.

Hello-my-name-is-Pete eyed the two of them quizzically as he handed them a set of room keys, but didn’t comment. Krissy realized why when she caught a glimpse of their reflections in the motel bathroom’s mirror— the blood and dirt was so much more obvious in the fluorescent glare.

“Do you have a change of clothes?”

Claire shook her head.

“Okay. Why don’t you take first shower, you can have something of mine when you get out.”

“Thanks.” Claire didn’t smile, but at least she met Krissy’s eyes.

  
  


The night wasn’t especially cold, but for whatever reason, Krissy couldn’t stop shivering once she had gotten into bed. Nights like these, before, she and Aiden and Josephine would pile into the same bed, limbs entangled, sharing warmth and closeness. Recently, that kind of night had gotten more and more frequent, until. Well. Until.

So Krissy curled into herself, hands tucked into her armpits, and tried to sleep.

Sleeping alone was worse than trying to sleep alone, it turned out. Krissy was hurled from dream to dream, blood dripping from a speechless Aiden’s mouth, Josephine sobbing and trying to pull an angel’s blade from her own chest, dirty and alone. She woke, weeping, the echo of a wordless shout ringing in the air. Still curled inward, Krissy gave herself over to the tears she had been holding in, shaking silently in the bed.

After only a minute or two, she felt a pressure on the other side of the bed, and a gentle hand on her shoulder. Muttering something that sounded comforting, if not particularly human, Claire slipped into bed beside Krissy.

“You were seeing them too.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.”

Claire didn’t say anything after that. Krissy almost wanted to ask about the boys they’d burned that afternoon, but she didn’t feel like she’d get anything more out of Claire that night. Or that week. Or that lifetime.

Still, the heat from Claire’s body stole the chill from Krissy’s bones, and her weight on the bed relieved the feeling of being tangibly alone.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been away for so long, I meant to write a lot more over break but then Legend of Korra happened.
> 
> Anyway, nice long-ish chapter for you all today! Usual thanks to Julia for being a magnificent beta, and to Liz and Cally for not getting weirded out when I write fanfiction about their fanfiction.

_“Ben!” Claire’s voice is rough, the dust of battle choking her throat._

_He looks up at her, and it’s then that she sees who he’s crouched over. Jesse lies slumped and still in Ben’s arms, a great dark stain blossoming across the front of his grey shirt._

_A scream rips from Claire’s throat, and the next thing she knows, she’s kneeling_ _beside Jesse’s body, and only then does she notice how badly injured Ben is too. Jesse_ _is unscathed but for the final injury, but Ben’s bleeding from too many places._

_“Ben. What happened?”_

_“I killed him.”_

_Claire draws back._

_“What.”_

_Ben laughs once, humorlessly._

_“Not— not Jesse. Obviously. I thought he’d be safe but he wasn’t looking and_ _Dean— Dean got him with the blade. So I...”_

_“Oh, Ben.”_

_“I didn’t even think about it. I just. I killed him, Claire, I just killed my dad.”_

_Claire doesn’t know what to say to that, so she pulls Ben’s head to her chest, kissing_ _the dark, blood-matted hair._

_“You were protecting your family, Ben.”_

_He seems to be trying to draw breath to say something, but doesn’t seem to be able_ _to. The two of them rest there together, listening to each labored breath, feeling his blood seep_ _into Claire’s jeans._

_“I’m sorry.” He says finally._

_“Don’t be.” She doesn’t trust herself with any more words._

_“I broke my promise. I’m sorry.”_

_The weight of his body increases._

  


Krissy woke with the light from the motel window on her face, a light that was grey and watery and imparted very little actual warmth. Claire had awoken before her, and was sitting in the red cloth-covered chair, her legs tucked up under her and her eyes closed. Krissy thought she had fallen asleep again until she sat up fully and Claire’s eyes flicked open.

“Good morning.” Krissy said, voice rusty from sleep. Claire nodded in response.

They got back into the car with minimal effort or conversation, stopping at Benson, Michigan’s single Mobil gas station for food and coffee for Krissy.

“Claire? Weird question.” Krissy asked as she turned back onto the freeway.

“Hmm?”

“Who won? Yesterday. I can’t—”

“I don’t remember much of the ending, either. It all kinda faded, after…”

“Same.” Silence fell. Moments later,

“I don’t think we did, though.” Krissy added as an afterthought.

“Yeah, I guess not.” Claire was tucked into herself, one foot resting lightly on the dashboard, hair slowly escaping from a single braid.

Silence fell again as Krissy tapped her finger on the steering wheel and the road got brighter and more crowded. She hadn’t realized Claire had fallen asleep until she silently jerked awake.

“Shit. Is there a town close?”

Krissy glanced over.

“Um, I think we passed a sign awhile back? Somewhere small, I’d never heard of it.”

“There are angels there. They’re sending out a call for help.”

“Okay, how the hell do you know that?”

Claire glanced at her in surprise. “I was a vessel for a bit. They get in your head, they don’t really ever leave. It sucks. Point is, there’s an angel in trouble and we should check it out.”

“Wait, why— How were you a vessel? How does that even work?”

“It’s a really long story. I had to, though.”

Krissy set her eyes on the road again. She desperately tried to tell her heart to settle down, she wasn’t in any danger, Claire had lost people in the war too. Krissy had seen good men and women cut down by the angels who were supposed to protect humanity. In her experience, holy fire looked purer than hellfire, but burned just as bad.

Still, it wasn’t really like they had another option.

Without a word, she moved the truck into the exit lane under the sign for Milcom, 2 miles.

 

 

As they approached the town, Krissy noticed that what she had initially perceived as the typical smudgy dullness of a hot day was actually a cloud of smoke rolling above the town.

“Looks like you were right.” She remarked to Claire, who was frowning at the horizon. She slowed the truck to a halt at the edge of a town, and she and Claire each pulled a gun from the crowded backseat.  Krissy noticed Claire tuck a long silver knife into her jacket as well. She raised an eyebrow.

“Picked it up yesterday. You never know.”

As they approached the center of the town, noise of a battle became more audible. Krissy motioned to Claire to duck behind a few cafe tables scattered on the sidewalk in front of a burnt-out restaurant.

The square was something of a disaster zone— a low metal fence running around the periphery had been torn up in several places, twisted to the the ground in others; dirt and turf were torn up and scattered across the sidewalk; a wooden seesaw was burning in a way that felt bizarrely symbolic to Krissy.

At the center of the destruction was a short, dark-haired woman in practical pumps  facing down two teenagers. The boy’s hair was short and his grin was fierce and wicked, the girl’s hair was shorter and her smile deadlier.The bright midday light cast shadows across both their faces but their black eyes were clearly visible.

As Krissy and Claire watched, the angel struck out, throwing the girl to the ground with a slash across the chest. She turned to the boy, thrusting a hand to his forehead. White light crackled behind his eyes, but he grabbed her sleeve as he fell, dragging her on top of his empty vessel. When she managed to turn back to face her enemy, the other demon had already risen to her feet, grabbing some sort of blade of her own from the ground.

“Why do you keep trying?” The girl’s voice was lower than Krissy had expected.

“You are not victorious yet.” The angel said.

“Yes we are! Open your fucking eyes! Once our grand finale is set into motion, there will be no rescuing earth. You feathery cowards should take your chance to retreat while you still have the chance. We win.”

“Are we going to do anything?” Krissy whispered to Claire.

“Hold on.”

The girl had raised the stained blade and was about to strike when, quick as thought, Claire raised her gun and fired a salt round into the center of her chest. The demon stumbled back, looking around for the source of the shot. Krissy held her breath, but the demon had no time to give away their position before the angel was on her. A quick stab to the stomach and it was over.

“Vessel! Child, come out.” The angel called, without turning to see Claire.

“Drop the sword first.” Claire called back. She still hadn’t lowered the gun.

The angel finally turned to look at them, blue eyes squinting slightly in the midday sun when she met Claire’s. Slowly, she raised the sword, still dipping with demon blood, and let it fall to the ground. She motioned for the girls to approach.

“Did I see you at the battle yesterday?” She asked as Krissy followed Claire across the torn-up grass, and her tone was so neutral that she could have been asking about the neighborhood barbeque instead.

Claire scowled.

“I saw your friend, though. I’m always surprised that one who should be so bound to us chooses to cast her loyalty with such an abomination.”

Again, her voice was as matter-of-fact as it could be. This time, though, hard anger flashed in Claire’s eyes.

“Fuck you.” She said.

“Have I offended you? I assure you, I only meant to say that the antichrist is a liability. As long as he walks the earth, the demons will be that much closer to winning. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

“Great news, then.”

The angel raised an eyebrow. Claire went on, her voice cold as ice and twice as hard. The girls were only a few steps away now, and as they approached, the angel took a faltering half-step back.

“He’s not anymore. Bad new, though, is that I can’t really let you take the good news back to the garrison.”

Claire drew the blade from her jacket before she finished her sentence and thrust, ruthless, into the angel’s ribcage. Pale blue light flooded from wide eyes and a gaping mouth as Claire twisted the blade free and turned away.

Krissy drew even with her, glancing over her shoulder at the three corpses in their wake. Claire bent down to pick up the angel’s fallen blade, wiping some of the blood on the grass before handing it to Krissy.

“Couldn’t we have gotten more info out of her?”

“Maybe.” The hardness hadn’t left Claire’s eyes, nor had the blade left her hand, and for the second time that morning Krissy had to remind herself that she wasn’t in any danger from her companion.

“Well, you can’t just go around stabbing everyone who says shit about your dead boyfriend, okay? If I remember correctly, the Antichrist wasn’t really one of the popular kids in the apocalypse cafeteria.”

“What do you know about Jesse?”

“He’s the antichrist. The demons wanted him on their side, the angels wanted him dead, but instead he shacked up with a couple of humans and— oh. That’s you, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah.”

“And he was one of the ones we… last night. One of those?”

“Yep.” Claire didn’t meet her eyes.

They had arrived at the car. As Krissy was turning the key in the ignition and pulling back onto the road, Claire gazed absently out the window. This time, she spoke without being prompted.

“Him and Ben, they were all I had. I told you I was a vessel— my father was Castiel’s vessel. I mean, still is, but that’s not my dad anymore, he’s just a meatsuit for that bastard angel.”

Krissy flinched at the terminology, but she let Claire continue.

“Ben is Dean Winchester’s son. We started hunting together when we were trying to find our dads, but then we found Jesse too, and we all kinda ended up sticking together.” Claire smiled fondly, and something wrenched in Krissy’s gut.

“Anyway, I was Castiel’s vessel for awhile again while he was trying to put his grace back together. I wouldn’t have done it, but Ben...I had to. So that was that. And now I can hear what they’re saying, sometimes. Reception’s shit, but it might come in handy.”

“What, so you can stab as many of them as possible?”

“It’s Heaven’s fault as much as Hell’s that Ben and Jesse are dead. So, yeah.” The thing was, if it had been Krissy in Claire’s position, she would have cried by now. Or at least gotten mad. But Claire was still staring out the passenger side window, and her expression was blank.

“Hey, Claire?” Krissy turned her gaze away from the road.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about Ben and Jesse.”

Claire met her eyes.

“Thanks. I— well, the way this is going, it doesn’t seem like I’ll be gone from them for long.”

There was nothing much to say to that, so Krissy let silence fill the car like smoke as the sun began to descend toward the trees.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, guys, I'm sorry that this has been so long coming. Senior year has been busy as hell, but I've got my Senior Project presentations today and after that it'll be mostly over.  
> Anyway. Have some rubbery pizza, crybaby rock, and (possibly) the beginning of an actual plot.

Outside of Joliet, they pulled into a strip mall while the watery mid-afternoon sun hung noncommittally above the treeline. The pizza was lukewarm and rubbery, but from the booth in the window they could keep an eye on the car and the door of the restaurant.

“Where are we going?” Krissy asked.

“I don’t know, you were the one driving.” Claire replied, and, if sarcasm counted as emotion, then Krissy decided to take that as progress.

“We have to meet up with some people, at least so we know what’s going on. Do you know anyone in the area?”

Claire shook her head. “No one important.”

“Um, okay. I know someone in Lincoln, we could get there in—” Krissy consulted her mental map of the region, which, admittedly, was a little patchy and mostly measured distances in terms of “close” “far” and “far as fuck” from Conway Springs.

“ — we could get there late tonight, I think.”

“I can drive for a bit, if that helps.” Claire offered.

“It would, thanks.” Krissy’s smile was almost returned.

After a moment, Krissy wrapped her hands around her elbows in an exaggerated shiver and made a face. “I haven’t been up north this time of year in a while, I forgot how early it gets cold.”

Claire smiled. She was better prepared, having pulled on a worn leather jacket before they left the car.

“So who are your friends in Lincoln?”

“Raina and Charles Lee. They’ve got a son, Peter, too. Sweet kid. They used to work with us sometimes. We took down a whole nest of vampires in Kansas City a few years back, but then Raina got pregnant and they took a couple years off.”

“Wow. Hunters with kids.”

“Yeah, they’re a really sweet family. Pretty stationary now, though, so they’re easier to track down and I bet they’ll have plenty of information.”

“Have you been in contact with them yet?”

Krissy looked taken aback, and then laughed. “I had completely forgotten. That’s a good idea.”

They paid the tab, and Krissy searched through her phone’s contacts until she found the right number. She leaned against the truck’s door while the phone rang for a long moment. Finally, the other line picked up.

“Krissy?” Raina’s contralto sounded tinny and far away, but it still lifted Krissy’s heart to hear her friend on the line.

“Hey, Raina. How’s it going?”

“As well as can be expected. You guys are the first ones we’ve heard from since yesterday. What’s the news?”

“Long story. I’d love to tell you in person, if that’s okay? I’m with another hunter, Claire…” Krissy trailed off and glanced up at Claire, at a loss.

“Novak” Claire mouthed.

“... Claire Novak” Krissy said. “And we don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“We’re always happy to see our favorite wayward child hunters.” Krissy rolled her eyes but laughed into the receiver.

“Okay, we’re in Joliet right now. Should get there by late tonight.”

“Aim for earlier. If I tell Peter his favorites are coming, he won’t be able to sleep. Do you have a minute to chat? He’s just upstairs and I’m sure he’d love to talk to Josephine.”

Krissy’s stomach twisted and her mind ran back through the conversation. His favorites, Raina had said. Child hunters. You guys are the first ones we’ve heard from. The fact that she was no longer part of a plural twisted a knife into her stomach.

“Actually, Raina, it’s just going to be me and Claire.”

“What do you mean? Where are Aiden and Jo going?”

“They didn’t make it. I’m sorry.” Krissy tried to keep her voice even— Raina and Charles had come to their high school graduations, their house had been the first stop on the so-called Three-Man Travelling Circus and Post-Graduation Road Trip, and all three of them had taken turns watching Peter on weekend hunts— but she couldn’t stop her voice cracking. Claire heard it too, and glanced up from inspecting the backs of her hands to meet Krissy’s eyes, sorrow and sympathy intermingling.

“Don’t you apologize to me, Krissy. You just get yourself here safely. I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks again, Raina. Tell Charlie and Peter I say hi.”

“You got it, chica. See you tonight.”

“Yeah, okay.”

The line went silent. Krissy slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and, not trusting herself to speak, climbed into the passenger side of the truck.

As Claire pulled the truck out of the parking lot and back onto the highway, Krissy felt the same silence descend over the car— a silence that was not typically uncomfortable, but now with the ghosts of Aiden and Josephine so present, it was unbearable.

“Can you tell me about them?” She said. Maybe if they filled the car with all the ghosts they could, it wouldn’t be so damn quiet and she wouldn’t feel so alone.

But Claire’s face closed off almost instantly.

“No,” she said softly, not without regret.

Krissy nodded and absently turned on the radio. The acoustic chords of a minor-key pop ballad filtered through the speakers. In the corner of her eye, Claire raised an eyebrow.

“Josephine loved this kind of shit. Aiden and I gave her hell for it, called it her ‘crybaby rock’ station. But it always made her happy. We can change it, if you want.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s good to hear about someone else’s problems.”

“The world may be ending, but this guy’s going to get his girl back.” Krissy smiled.

  
  


It had been dark for an hour or two by the time Claire pulled the car into the exit lane for Lincoln. A few minutes’ drive took them to the quiet street of rowhouses, motionless in the night but for a cat slipping from shadow to shadow.

“It should be coming up here on the left.” Krissy said, leaning out her window to read the house numbers.

“There! 634. With the light on.”

Claire pulled the car into a parking spot a few houses down and the two climbed out, pulling backpacks from the cramped backseat. Krissy tried to peer through the window before ringing the doorbell, but the blinds were closed tightly and she wasn’t able to see anything until the door swung gently open.

“Hey, Krissy! Right on time.” Charles’s face had gotten older in the year or so since Krissy had seen him last, but his brown eyes were still warm and vibrant, despite the new folds surrounding them.

“Hi Charles. How’ve you been?”

“We’re alright. Come on in. Is this Claire?”

Claire smiled thinly.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Just put your bags there for now. Have you eaten?”

“Not since this afternoon.”

“I’ll get you guys some leftover pasta in a sec, okay?” Almost apologetically, he pulled a flask from his back pocket. “If you don’t mind, though, first?” He uncapped the flask and poured a little onto his forearm.

“No problem.” Krissy doused her hands and passed the flask to Claire, who poured a few drops of the remaining holy water onto her own hands. After handing it back to Charles, she rubbed her hands together as if washing her hands, and Krissy absently wondered if the ritual felt different for someone with sacred blood. Almost immediately, she decided not to ask.

“Alright. Let’s get you some food. Make yourselves comfortable.”

Charles disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two girls standing in the front room. Krissy met Claire’s eyes and cast about for something to say, but, as usual, nothing came to mind. Claire looked so out of place, and Krissy felt a sudden need to make Claire feel as at home as she did, to assure her that she was safe in this small brownstone. Then again, she knew that most hunters, especially ones with histories like Claire’s, had a bit of trouble conceptualizing the term “safe.”

“We’ll be okay to stay here a few days.” She said softly. “Then we can decide where we want to go next.”

“Okay.” Claire might have said more, but just then Charles re-entered the room with two bowls of pasta.

“So, where’s Raina?” Krissy asked once they were seated.

“A friend of ours called for backup a few hours ago. She should be home soon.”

“Everything okay?”

Charles shrugged. “As far as I know. I think it was some sort of vampire. Hunting alone, though, it shouldn’t give them too much trouble.”

As if on cue, his phone rang.

“Hey, babe.”

A pause. Krissy couldn’t make out individual words, or even a tone of voice, but Charles’ brow knit with worry almost instantly.

“Are you okay?”

Another pause, longer this time.

“Not now. Just— just get home, okay? We’ll talk about it here.”

“Yeah. She’s here, she’s fine.” Charles looked up at Krissy suddenly, eyes dark and searching. She felt herself blushing under the sudden scrutiny. “I don’t think so.”

“See you in a few.”

“What was that?” Claire asked quietly, almost defensive— she’d noticed the sudden suspicion as well.

“It wasn’t a vampire. Raina’s not sure what it was. Have you had any contact with anyone else in the last few hours?”

“No one but you, we’ve been driving since Joliet. Why?” Krissy said.

“She thinks it might be something contact-based. I don’t know, she’ll tell us more once she gets home.”

Krissy nodded, satisfied, and returned her attention to her ravioli. Claire looked suspicious still, but Krissy was beginning to suspect that that was more of a state of being than an actual mood for her. Krissy happened to glance up just as a small boy in plain blue pajamas peeked around the corner of the doorway, brown curls still mussed up with sleep. His eyes widened when he saw Krissy, but he didn’t move farther into the room.

“Peter?” She asked. As soon as he heard her voice, his face brightened.

“Krissy!” He ran into the room and hugged her knees.

“Aw, Peter, c’mon.” Laughing, Krissy picked him up and placed him on her lap.

“Hey, Pete, this is my friend Claire. Can you say hi to her?”

“Hi, Claire.” Peter said shyly. Claire looked stricken in the exact manner of people who desperately want to be good with small children but aren’t.

“Um, hi, Peter.” She said.

“Krissy? Where’s Jo?” Peter’s lisp made Krissy’s name difficult enough, but Josephine’s was downright impossible, so he had shortened it to just the first syllable long ago. Krissy stiffened at the nickname, shooting a desperate look at Charles.

“Jo isn’t coming today, it’s just Krissy and Claire.” He said.

“No Aiden?”

“Sorry, buddy.” Krissy said. “Just us.”

“Aw.” Peter looked downcast for a moment, and then brightened almost instantly. “You wanna watch Cars?”

“It’s a little late to watch Cars tonight, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Let’s let Krissy finish her dinner, okay?” Charles said, standing up. “You can hang out with her tomorrow.”

Krissy handed a yawning Peter up to his dad, and the two set off upstairs.

“Sweet kid.” Claire said once they were out of hearing range.

“Told you.”

Claire smiled again, and it was such a sweet thing, a rare flash of teeth and a near-imperceptible softening of her eyes. Krissy glanced back down at her scarred hands twisted in her lap.

A moment passed, and then came the sound of a key turning in the lock at the front door. Krissy could hear Charles’ low voice still talking to Peter upstairs, so she rose to answer, deciding it couldn’t be anyone but Raina. Already prepared to welcome her friend and reassure her that she and Claire were okay, Krissy opened the inner door.

It was Raina, sure enough, but not the warm, motherly woman of Krissy’s past, or even of the conversation hours ago. Her coat was torn at one sleeve, she was still slightly out-of-breath, and her eyes were wide and dull behind blood-splattered wire frames. Krissy pulled her inside by one arm while Claire, who had followed closely behind her, glanced up and down the block before quickly locking the door.

Krissy led Raina to the nearest chair and knelt before her, one hand on the trembling woman’s knee.

“Raina? What is it? What did you see.”

“Krissy? Krissy, you have to get out. It’s nothing— it’s nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“What do you mean?” Claire asked.

Raina glanced up at her.

“They said the end of the world would come after the battle. I don’t think we’ve got too long to wait.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In addition to my usual thanks to Julia, the world's most badass beta, I also have to thank Cassie, who stepped in like a champ when Julia was out of the country with no internet (rude, right?). Cassie, you're wonderful. Thanks :D

**Author's Note:**

> This is, of course, Julia's fault. Any complaints about plot should be directed to her, I'm just here to write about sad gay losers having feelings.
> 
> Title is from "Those You've Known," because sometimes you just have to listen to Spring Awakening and cry about your OT3 (um, Ben/Jesse/Claire, not the one from the musical)
> 
> The rating will go up once Krissy and Claire figure out that the healthy, normal way to deal with the apocalypse is ill-advised sex.


End file.
